The Basketball Court

A smile crossed my face as I finally finished decoding the note. “Your target is Jamal, one of the local gang leaders.  He was last seen at the basketball court just off of First Street.  Find him and eliminate him.  Be discreet.”

Below the message was a picture of a stoned looking guy with dreadlocks and a tribal tattoo on the right side of his face. That had to be Jamal. Styx must have known I was bored out of my mind. It was too easy for him just to give me a job; he had to jerk me around some, first. Why he wanted me to kill some local gang pissant, I didn’t know, but I didn’t care, either. All that mattered was that I finally had something to do.

I got up and shoved the note into my pocket. As I started walking back toward the sidewalk, I checked the basketball court’s location with my phone. It was about twenty minutes away. I took a deep breath and started jogging once more.

By the time I made it to the right neighborhood, a thin layer of sweat covered my body and adrenaline started to course through my veins; it was show time.

As I walked down the street toward the basketball court, I couldn’t help but notice just how ghetto the area was. Garbage littered the sidewalk and all of the buildings looked filthy and run down. The liquor store to my right had rusted bars covering the windows and what I guessed were several patched up bullet holes near the door. That was a good sign – I was about to have some real fun.

The rusty chain link fence surrounding the basketball court came into view as I crossed the street. I looked left and right as I got close, but nobody else was around except for a group of kids playing basketball. Something wasn’t right. All of the little bastards looked like they were in middle school. There was no way in Hell some punk-ass gang leader was that young.

“Hey,” I said as I approached the fence.

The kids stopped their game and turned to look at me, their dark faces set with deep scowls.

“What the hell you want?” the oldest kid, who was maybe thirteen, asked as he stepped toward me.

I stared at him as he sauntered closer, trying to intimidate me. My hand itched to reach for my gun and show him how to really intimidate someone, but I stopped myself. I needed to lay low, at least for a little while. If I caused too much of a scene, finding Jamal was going to be a pain in the ass.

What do you want to do?

Bribe Lie Threaten Attack